


( perhaps in another life )

by Acacius



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble Collection, F/F, Gen, M/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 17:25:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16837105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acacius/pseuds/Acacius
Summary: A collection of one-shots crossposted from my tumblr! Pairings, themes, and prompts will vary from chapter to chapter.





	1. Pleasant Consequences - Geralt x Regis

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "There's no going back if we do this." Set during blood & wine.

“Geralt,” Regis starts, pacing back and forth inside the crypt, fingers clutched tightly to his satchel. “There’s no going back if we do this.” 

“So be it.” the witcher replies, rising from his seat on the dusty cot. “I’m not letting you martyr yourself–never again.” 

Regis stills, a pained look flitting across his face, dark eyes heavy with grief. “I’m not fully healed. When Dettlaff realizes we’ve tricked him, he will not respond kindly. I do not wish to put you in any more danger.” 

“I’m not just going to sit back and let Dettlaff raze the entire city to the ground. And you’re not going to sacrifice yourself either, Regis. I won’t let you.” 

The vampire bows his head and grimaces, lips pulled into a thin line. When he finally looks up, gaze softening at the startling open expression on Geralt’s face, Regis can only shake his head. “Why? Why risk your life for me–an otherwise immortal being? A monster who, in truth, deserves little of the kindness you’ve extended to me.” 

“You’re really gonna make me spell it out, huh?” Geralt says, lips briefly curling upwards. “For an age-old being, you sure can be horribly oblivious.” 

“P-pardon?” 

“I love you.”

“You…” Regis fumbles for the right words, mind racing. For a brief, horrifying moment he wonders if it is all a cruel dream–a longing he had tried so desperately to snuff out to no avail. The thought itself disrupts his focus, whatever words of affection he wished to voice dying on his tongue. “…love me?” he instead finishes lamely, crossing the distance to Geralt in a storm of grey smoke. 

“Yeah. Now’s the part where you either tell me the feeling’s mutual or to go fuck off.” the witcher rubs the back of his neck, looking away. It’s the closest to bashful Regis has ever seen the man act, stirring some sense of urgency back into his mind. 

When Regis reaches for Geralt, cupping the nape of his neck in a strong but gentle hold, the vampire remains corporeal despite the urge to surround the witcher, to feel every molecule against his own. He settles on a kiss, surging forward so quickly that if it weren’t for his hold on Geralt, he would have likely fallen back. 

Geralt melts into the kiss, completely at ease, a pleased rumble reverberating from his chest. When he pulls away to breathe, he can only grin, fingers tugging the vampire back to him. 

“As you’d say, the feeling’s mutual.” Regis laughs, unabashedly tipping his head back as pure mirth warms his blood. “And please, never fuck off. I don’t think my heart could take it.” 

Geralt snorts. “Alright. That I can do.”


	2. Professor AU Pt. 1 - Geralt x Regis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "It's only one night, we'll just share the bed." Professor AU.

"Well, this is…” Regis trails, rolling his suitcase to the corner of the tiny hotel room. 

“Cozy?” Geralt offers before his brain can catch up with his mouth. Fortunately, despite the mortification he feels, his expression remains neutral and unconcerned. 

“That’s not quite the word I was looking for, but I’m glad you’re feeling optimistic about all this. How the university managed to accidentally room us together while all the other professors have their own rooms for this conference is such an enigma. I mean we’re not even in the same field.” 

“We’re in tangentially related fields, though. Physics and Medicine. One year I ended up sharing a room with Dandelion–Dr. Pankratz–and he played his lute the entire night.” 

Regis chuckles. “Well, I can assure you I will not be keeping you up longer than you’d like.” 

Once they settle into what could only be described as a cramped room, Geralt and Regis go through their own speeches for the research they plan to present at the conference. Regis is polite but firm when he asks questions, pleased to spur the discussion further. At some point, the conversation drifts from newtonian physics to astrophysics and it is then that Regis realizes truly just how well-versed Geralt is in multiple branches of physics–a complete surprise given the man’s appearance. 

Geralt was seen as a rather aloof figure in the science department. He was an ex-soldier with an adopted daughter, milk-white hair that no one was sure was natural or dyed, a complicated history with the university’s president, Yennefer Vengerberg, and was somehow very well-liked by his students despite his seemingly cold demeanor. He had garnered Regis’ interest almost immediately. 

Regis, being someone naturally drawn to mysteries and puzzles, had spent the better part of a year trying to get to know the other man better. Between bringing him baked goods (the man had a sweet tooth and also liked bringing any extra sweets to his daughter), friendly banter, and just spending time together (usually by grading exams in the same room), a tentative friendship had blossomed into a full-blown camaraderie to the surprise of professors in their departments. 

Despite their stark differences, they meshed well together. Conversation flowed easily. Geralt actually listened to Regis’ ramblings–and stopped him whenever he got too off topic. Regis was interested in every facet of Geralt’s life, even his family, gaining the privilege of meeting young Cirilla who was due to attend the university next year. It was an odd kinship indeed, but neither man had any interest in ending it anytime soon. 

Now, though confined to the same narrow hotel room, their friendship shone through in a situation that would normally cause stress. They spent the remainder of the evening chatting and playing cards until Geralt began to yawn, tiredness apparent in the slump of his shoulders. 

“It’s only one night, we’ll just share the bed,” Geralt says, shrugging off his coat to sit in a plain white button-up, more buttons open than necessary. Regis’ gaze travels immediately to the exposed skin, tracing a long diagonal scar that crossed his chest. His mouth feels dry and as he swallows he nearly chokes as Geralt turns away and takes the shirt off, undressing until he’s only in his boxers. After pulling on a pair of sweatpants, he turns back towards Regis, raising a brow in inquiry. 

Oh. Right. I need to respond, Regis chides himself, desperately trying to keep his eyes fixed to Geralt’s face. He’s a colleague and friend. No need to get so worked up. 

“Are you sure? I don’t mind sleeping on the floor–” 

“Regis, get over here. It’s cold and I’m tired.” Geralt is already climbing into the bed, cocooning himself underneath the soft white bedspread. 

“A-alright. One moment.” As quick as possible, Regis changes into his own nightclothes, surprised to see Geralt staring intently at him when he turns back towards the bed. 

“Is something wrong?” 

Regis’ words are enough to break Geralt from his reverie. He coughs, turning on his side so that he’s facing the wall, hiding the slight flush in his cheeks. “No. Just… come over already. We’ve gotta be up early. Your presentation’s at 9:00am, isn’t it?” 

“Yes, it is,” Regis says as he slips into the bed, realizing immediately that the bed was too small for him to rest comfortably without pressing against Geralt. “Sorry, just trying to… get comfortable.” Regis laments, scooting closer until he too is on his side, practically spooning the other man. 

“Mhmm, it’s alright.” Geralt replies, voice already thick with sleep. Regis does his best not to dwell on the sound, willing himself to sleep despite the impossibility of sharing a bed with the most attractive professor on campus. 

“Goodnight, Geralt.” 

“’Night, Regis.” 

Later in the night, Regis wakes to the feeling of Geralt breathing against the crook of his neck, long limbs tangled against his own. The other man had somehow shifted in his sleep, clinging to Regis as the only other beacon of warmth in the chilly room. Geralt is, for all intents and purposes, sprawled on top of him (and heavy), but Regis doesn’t dare to move. Geralt nuzzles against his neck and it’s then that Regis realizes how absolutely screwed he is. 

_I’m smitten indeed… if you only knew, Geralt._

The next morning, Regis downs three cups of black coffee as Geralt stares puzzlingly.


	3. Professor AU Pt. 2 - Geralt x Regis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the Professor AU!

“So,” Dettlaff begins, bringing the coffee cup to his lips, “how was the conference?” 

“Fine,” Regis replies a moment too quickly, wincing as he takes a sip of his still too-warm tea. 

Dettlaff raises a brow, but says nothing, turning his gaze to the large window beside him. The coffee shop on campus was normally filled with students rushing for their afternoon dose of caffeine, but the professors both knew of the hour lull in which most classes were being held–a perfect time to grab a cup and enjoy each other’s company.

Given that their fields of expertise were in vastly different departments, they agreed to meet twice a week to go over any new events in their lives. Having met by chance at a faculty mixer, both out on the fringe of their respected groups (Dettlaff due to his preference to speak one-on-one instead of in a cluster while Regis had simply been a new hire, and therefore, unknown to most in attendance), they had formed a bond almost immediately over their shared passion for books and art. Their friendship, while seemingly unlikely at first glance, was built upon mutual trust and honesty. Being without siblings, Regis had started to see Dettlaff as a brother–as family, which suited the other man just fine.

“I heard that you and Dr. Rivia were accidentally roomed together.” 

Regis sighed. “How did you hear about this? You’re all the way in the English department–never mind. Orianna, I presume?”

Orianna was also a lecturer at the university’s medical school. Though she seemed sweet and acted in a way that some students erroneously took to be a sign that she was a pushover, Orianna had the highest fail rate of any class on campus–a feat, given that these were students who had managed to be accepted to medical school. Regis saw anywhere from ten to thirty students a semester running to his office in tears, distraught to have failed one of her exams. Though they get on cordially enough, Regis suspected Orianna thrived upon drama, whether it was of her own doing or by rumors she innocently started.

“You presume correctly,” Dettlaff replied. At Regis’ downcast expression, he continued. “Fret not, she only communicates with me because we went to the same alma mater. I doubt she has many other… acquaintances in the English department.” 

“And what other sort of rumors did Orianna lace with this one grain of truth, I wonder?” 

“Nothing against your character, if that is your concern. She merely insinuated that you have feelings for Dr. Rivia. Which isn’t slander since it’s true.” 

Regis, mid-sip, nearly spat out his tea, blindly reaching for the napkins placed between them to wipe up the mess. “I-I what now?”

“Are interested in pursuing a romantic relationship with Geralt Rivia.” Dettlaff cocks his head to the side. “Unless I’m mistaken. I went through a fair deal of counseling to manage my anger and… emotional outbursts. Along the way, I learned how to better conduct myself in relationships–platonic or otherwise. Have I misinterpreted the situation?” 

“…No.” Regis admitted, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s highly unprofessional of me. I shouldn’t be so infatuated with one of my colleagues.” He slumped further in his chair, uncaring to turn around when the bell chimed, signaling that a new patron had entered the shop. “And it’s not even his appearance–no matter how handsome he is–that has me so frazzled. He actually listens to my ramblings. A few weeks ago I mentioned that I had somehow misplaced my copy of the 4th edition of the Sidman’s neuroanatomy textbook and he stopped by my office today to hand me a brand new copy. Apparently he asked around campus until someone gave him their extra book.” 

A brief look of panic crossed Dettlaff’s face. “Regis, I think you should stop talking–”

“Why? Can I not vent my frustrations about an unfairly attractive professor who has stolen my heart to a dear friend without judgement?” 

“Unfairly attractive, huh? That’s a new one.” 

At the familiar voice, Regis turned in his seat, face flushed at the sight of the current recipient of his affection. “Geralt… how lovely to see you?” He cringed at the way his voice lilted, as if he were asking a question.

“I only caught the tail-end of the conversation, but unless someone else found that textbook for you, I’m guessing you were talking about me.” 

“He was.” Dettlaff supplied, ignoring the sharp glare that Regis sent his way. “Proper communication is a vital foundation for any relationship. I’ll take my leave now so you two can discuss your thoughts and feelings.” As Dettlaff collected his belongings, he offered Geralt a small nod. 

Geralt returned the gesture, sliding into the seat Dettlaff vacated. Once the other man left the ship, Geralt gave a brief grin. “You really are friends with unlikely people. Though I guess I can’t say much–Dandelion’s my best friend and he wouldn’t know the difference between classical physics and quantum mechanics if it hit him in the head.”

“Dettlaff and I aren’t that dissimilar, believe it or not. He was the first friend I made at the university.” 

“Mhmm, if you say so. Just glad to see that you have friends you can rely on.” 

An interlude of silence followed, punctuated only by the sound of Regis taking a shaky sip of his tea. Steeling his nerves, Regis locked eyes with the other man. “Geralt, if I may be blunt?”

“Go ahead.” 

“I like you. And I would like to pursue a romantic relationship with you. I”m sorry if my infatuation was obvious during our shared cohabitation at the conference. I don’t mean to cause a rift in our relationship, but I’d be jeopardizing it in the long-run if I wasn’t truthful with you right now.” 

“Regis,” Geralt said, leaning across the table to grab his hand. “If you wanna ask me out on a date, just say so.” 

“Geralt… would you like to grab dinner tomorrow night?” 

“That’d be great. And Regis,” Geralt paused, squeezing Regis’ hand, a gentle smile flittering across his face. “I like you too. I thought it was pretty obvious–but I guess we’re both a bit oblivious, aren’t we?” 

“So it seems.” Regis returned the gesture with his own wide grin. 

“Hey, I’ve got another thirty minutes before my next lecture. Wanna just sit and talk for awhile? I so don’t feel like moving anytime soon.” 

Regis chuckled. “Of course. I don’t think there’s anywhere else I’d rather be.”


	4. What I Need - Ciri x Cerys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Who crawls through someone’s window at 4am to go for ice cream?!" Roommate AU.

If it weren’t for the familiar flash of red hair as the figure barreled into Ciri’s fourth floor dorm room from the open window, the young woman would have already had the intruder in a choke-hold. 

“Cerys? What are you doing? It’s 4:00am–and you live here. Why didn’t you just use the door?” 

Cerys picked herself off the floor before flopping onto Ciri’s bed, belly-down. She flashed a charming grin. “I had a bet with my brother that I could get into my room through the window. But I also wanted to go out for ice cream. Wanna join?” 

“Who crawls through someone’s window at 4:00am to go for ice cream?!” 

“Technically, it’s our window. And technically I did it to wipe that smirk off Hjalmar’s face. I just thought of the ice cream thing right now.” 

Ciri frowned, leaning back against her desk with a sigh. “I’ve got four hours until my biology class and I need to sleep–” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Cerys interrupted. “Doesn’t Dr. Regis teach that class? He’s practically part of your family–he won’t care if you miss class once to catch up on some rest You’ve been working too hard the past few weeks, after all.” 

“But, I promised I”d help him prepare the cadavers for Wednesday,” Ciri started, biting her lip. She hated disappointing Regis; he was practically a second father-figure to her, always encouraging her adventurous and curious spirit.

“Here,” Cerys leaned over the side of the bed to pick up Ciri’s phone, handing it to the ashen-haired woman. “Text Dr. Regis and tell him you won’t make it to lecture in the morning because you need a day off for your mental and physical health. You’ll go to lab and help him with the cadavers in the evening, like you promised, though, once you get some R&R. With me.” The red-haired woman squeezed Ciri’s hand, placing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. 

“…You spoil me, you know,” Ciri said, leaning into the touch. 

“That I do. Now, come on, let’s get some ice cream and then come back here to cuddle and sleep.” 

Fingers intertwined, Cerys lead Ciri out of their room, sneaking a quick peck to the scar on her cheek. 

“Hey, since you interrupted my studying with your climbing-through-the-window-stunt, that means you’re paying, right?” Ciri asked. 

Cerys chuckled. “Fair enough.” 

“Good. I want three scoops of strawberry ice cream. With sprinkles.” 

“Anything for you, love.”


	5. Trust Me - Geralt x Regis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "How can you think I’m anything but hopelessly in love with you?”

Regis was silent–had been silent for hours even as Geralt tried, and failed, to engage the higher vampire in conversation. 

“Regis, you’ve gotta let me know what’s going on in your head. You’ve been quiet before, but you’ve never outright ignored me.” Geralt said, hissing slightly as he tried too quickly to sit up in the cot. The wounds from the bruxa’s claws still throbbed horribly, the bandages wrapped around his chest slowly becoming a dusty pink. “Shit, think I might’ve pulled out some stitches.” 

At once, Regis was at his side, gaze hard and unreadable. Geralt saw a brief peek of his fangs as he breathed deeply through his nose, scenting the air. 

“…Regis?” Geralt asked, voice wavering. He’d seen Regis angry before, but this was different. It wasn’t the controlled rage needed to slice through bandits or thieves. The higher vampire was furious and trying to temper his emotion while Geralt was bleeding and otherwise defenseless to do anything. 

Geralt flinched at the feeling of cold hands against his face, cupping his cheeks. The touch was feather-light, gentle, and completely unexpected. Regis stroked a thumb against his cheek, brows knitting together as he sighed, the anger once seemingly untamed and dangerous slinking back inside him–all of it dissipating the moment he touched Geralt’s skin. 

“You are a reckless, obstinate witcher. Why would you take a contract against a vampire–higher, lower, it doesn’t matter. You’re human, Geralt, and more fragile than you think. Any deeper of a wound and those claws would have pierced your heart. You’d be… you’d be gone. And I wouldn’t even know.” 

“I’m sorry,” Geralt said, leaning into the touch as Regis brushed a few stray strands of hair behind his ear. “I didn’t know it was a bruxa, at first. By the time I realized what I was up against, it was too late.” 

“Next time, if there’s even a minute chance you are dealing with one of my kind, please bring me along. I’m sorry for my silence earlier. I was stewing in my own anger. Which wasn’t directed at you–it was at myself, for not being there. And how not being with you almost cost you your life.” 

“I promise I’ll come right to you if I suspect a vampire. And I didn’t mean to upset you–I know I could’ve died, but to me, it’s just another set of scars. I’ll heal and be back on the Path in no time. Danger is something I’ll always have to face.” 

“Oh Geralt, you are so fortunate that I’m hopelessly in love with you.” Regis replied, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You may need to face danger to do your job, but you don’t have to do it alone. Not anymore.” 

“I’ll try to remember that next time.” 

“You better. Now, let’s redress your wound and make sure you heal all in one piece.”


	6. A Queen & Witcheress - Ciri x Cerys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “I tried, but I just can’t stay away from you anymore.” Set sometime after the events of TW3.

“Ciri, what are you–” 

The witcheress threw herself towards Cerys, her hood falling back to reveal a cascade of ashen-blonde locks. Cerys encircles the shorter woman’s waist, falling back onto the stone floor with a groan, taking the brunt of the fall. 

“I tried, but I just can’t stay away from you anymore,” Ciri confessed, still sprawled on top of the Queen of Skellige. The few clansmen that stand in the throne-room look at each other, unsure, until a brave warrior steps towards the pair. 

“Leave us,” Cerys orders, voice firm and resolute despite still being underneath the other woman. Slowly, the guards scatter, until only Cerys and Ciri remain. “Now, that was a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” 

“Hardly. I actually traveled to Skellige normally–if I really wanted to give the an Craite a scare, I could have used my powers. Imagine me showing up in a burst of light, that’d have some of the men running for the mountains.” 

Cerys snorted. “Alright, _Swallow._ Do you plan to keep me pinned to the floor?” 

Ciri flashed a devious grin. “Of course not, _Sparrowhawk._ I’d rather have you pinned somewhere much more comfortable.” 

“Hmm, do you now? I wonder where that would be.” 

“Follow me and I’ll show you.” Ciri offered her hand, helping Cerys to her feet. “It’s been much too long since I’ve stopped by. I plan to make up for all that lost time.” 

“I’m looking forward to it,” Cerys said, bringing her lips to Ciri’s. 

_Perhaps politics could wait just a few more hours…_


	7. To Protect - Geralt x Regis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was protective!Regis.

Bandits, while relatively underwhelming, did become somewhat of a pest when charging together in a large number. Somewhere along the way, Geralt had amassed a bounty on his head, and a near army of bandits had found him alone near the Mère-Lachaiselongue Cemetery, or so they assumed. 

Moonlight spilled through the dense thicket of trees as a grey vapor trickled through the grass, startling the first bandit who had been unfortunate enough to land a blow against the witcher’s cheek with the pommel of his blade. 

“What the fuck–” he exclaimed, only to find his head severed swiftly from his body. 

More and more of the bandits followed, being torn to shreds by an invisible enemy. Geralt, clutching at a wound on his sternum, rose to his feet, watching the carnage with equal parts fascination and awe. 

“Regis, it’s alright–I can handle the last few,” Geralt started, only wincing minutely as he clutched his steel sword with his right hand while preparing to sign Igni with his left. 

As if summoned, the vampire materialized into his corporeal form, features still human and reminiscent of the usual barber-surgeon, save for the way he clutched a decapitated head by its hair, throwing it deftly to the side. 

“I trust in your abilities, Geralt, but please, let me finish this. They were foolish enough to hurt you–they deserve a punishment befitting such a crime.” Quick as a barghest, Regis dispatched the four remaining bandits in a sinuous wave of movement. Claws extended, he drifted from bandit to bandit, slicing through sinew and flesh with practiced ease. It was a bloodbath, but somehow elegant–a true testimony to the deadly nature of higher vampires. 

When the last bandit fell dead, his severed body joining the heap of corpses, Regis turned his attention to Geralt. The vampire did not look winded in the slightest despite having killed more than two-dozen men. If it weren’t for the blood that coated his nails, it would seem as if he had just finished a mundane task. 

But then the facade dropped, coal-black eyes lidded in concern, brows knitting together–an all-together very human expression. 

The switch from cold, calculated ferocity to blatant concern touched Geralt, allowing the witcher to give a slight upturn of his lips at Regis’ open show of emotion. “Hey, I’m alright. It’s just a shallow cut.” 

“Still, they hunted you. Sought to kill you while you slept. How cowardly.” Regis closed the gap between them, stroking his thumb softly against the bruise blooming on Geralt’s cheek. The witcher leaned into the touch despite the small thrum of pain, eyes fluttering closed. Regis was a comforting presence–always had been, even before their relationship had become romantic. 

He gave a soft chuckle. “Thieves aren’t known for their morals, you know.” 

“Which is why I did not feel any remorse in cutting them down. Come now, let’s return to the cemetery so I can tend to your wounds.” Regis pressed a kiss to Geralt’s forehead before reaching for his hand. 

The witcher allowed himself to be slowly guided back to the cemetery, his own small smile still plastered on his face. “Regis?” he asked once they entered the mausoleum. 

“Yes?” 

“Got anymore moonshine?” 

Regis rolled his eyes, sighing fondly. “Perhaps we can share a snifter if you behave and let me patch you up without much fuss.” 

“Alright, alright. I’ll be good. I promise.” 

Regis hummed in approval. “Thank you, my dear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all I've got for now! In the meantime, you can find me on my tumblr @riviae for more nonsense witcher blogging! xoxoxo


End file.
